Chapter Text
The first time he laid eyes on her properly was during her introduction to his fellow Saints – a small girl standing besides the Pope, posture tense as she clutched the holy scepter somewhat clumsily.
Her eyes had darted every which way across the room until they landed on Sisyphus, narrow shoulders relaxing minutely at the sight of the man (the news of her arrival and the Gold Saint who found her had spread across the Sanctuary like a wildfire).
The current reincarnation of Athena, their goddess made flesh and bone and the only thing Albafica could think was how tiny she looked standing before them.
She somehow managed to look even smaller up close.
“Lady Athena?”
He called softly from where he stood by the temple’s doors, a safe distance away from the small figure dressed in black.
Bright green eyes blinked at him in startled surprise, the girl jumping a little at his voice before her face pinched into a frown.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The child tilted her head to the right (the movement oddly reminiscent of an owl), tiny hands raised in a pacifying gesture – he caught a glimpse of a flower chain fastened around a bony wrist, the petals looking perfectly unharmed despite being under the rough looking fabric up until that point.
“Please don’t send me back!”
There was an urgency to her childish voice that had him rooted to his spot; Albafica found himself softening his voice further, crouching so they stood eye to eye.
“Send you back?”
“Yeah, back there.” she gestured towards the Pope’s chambers and the Sanctuary beyond with her head.
“They’ll make me change and say that I’m where I’m meant to be and no one will even use my name – even if mister Sisyphus is right and I’m really Athena’s reincarnation that doesn’t mean I’m not me, my name’s Sasha!” said firmly, with a fierceness that had him thinking of unseathed steel.
Little fingers clutching at the edges of fraying sleeves; a small girl standing in her ratty dress, clinging to what was left of her old life as her whole world was upturned by a bunch of strangers (a child, unbearably human in all the ways that mattered).
“I won’t send you back, you have my word.”
“You’re also a Golden Saint like mister Sisyphos, right? I remember seeing you in the back of the room when mister Sage introduced me to all of you…”
The smile suddenly sent his way takes him by surprise – the girl rocks on the balls of her feet as she cranes her neck up to look at him, previous gloomy disposition all but forgotten in a way that has him recalling the children he often sees running about at the village.
“My name is Albafica, I’m the Pisces Saint. It’s nice to properly meet you, Lady Sasha.”
She grinned at the sound of her name, expression tugging at too thin cheeks (he couldn’t help but worry at the gauntness of her frame, she looked a wisp of a child; a little too slight, too small – the way children grew when worries were too many and meals too few).
“It’s nice to properly meet you as well mister Albafica, thank you for not sending me back.”
His heart constricted inside his chest, climbed all the way up to his throat and lodged itself there like a noose (later on he would look back at this day and wonder if his father felt the same brand of dread seeing him amongst the roses for the first time).
And that’s how he found himself fretting inside the temple’s kitchen, unearthing the spare cutlery kept carefully wrapped in, the incredibly unlikely, case he ever had to feed someone other than himself (Shion, after a couple of missions; Aldebaran, that one time and the Pope on one memorable occasion).
Somehow the pair of them ended up sat outside – Albafica didn't have much in the way of food: bread, some cheese and a handful of dried fruit; his impromptu guest didn't seem to mind, the girl ate with gusto even if not a lot, cheeks puffing out as she chewed.
Kids it turned out, even the ones supposed to serve as conduit for the divine, asked a lot of questions.
“Are you and mister Sisyphos friends?”
She asks while swinging her feet back and forth in childish delight.
And well, how does he even begin to explain that?
“I wouldn't say we're close enough to be friends. He's kind and dependable though, I admire the way he gets along with the other Saints.”
She tilted her head in that odd little way of hers, squinting up at him as if puzzling something together.
“You seem kind as well, do you have trouble getting along with the others?” Her face hardened after a few seconds “Are they bullying you?” there’s something weirdly authoritative in the way her voice rings.
Albafica feels a slight shiver climb up his spine despite himself, at the back of his mind Pisces stirs in interest for the briefest of moments.
He wasn't sure where she got the idea from, but it wouldn't do to have the young goddess alienated from her own Saints over a misunderstanding.
“No, nothing of the kind! It's my fault really; I keep my distance so I'm not as close to anyone – it's safer this way.”
“Is it because of the roses? Mister Sage said they were poisonous and I shouldn't go near them.”
“And he’s right. All Pisces Saints fight using these roses, over time our blood becomes poisonous as well – I rather keep my distance because of it.”
“Is that why you wrapped your hands with cloth to hand me a cup?”
Bright green eyes pinned him in place, he felt flayed open, fingers curling towards his palm as he stopped reaching for his own cup of tea – he didn't answer (couldn't bring himself to force the words past the knot of fear/shame/guilt).
“That sounds incredibly lonely.”
He avoided her gaze, hiding behind the rim of his cup.
“I'm used to it.”
Albafica’s voice came out as a murmur, soft and thin in the air between them.
The young goddess smiled up at him, there was something melancholic to her.
“You sound just like my brother Alone, I think you’d get along.”
Time passes them by in small increments, the girl's voice chiming like a bell as she recounted her days before the Sanctuary – a soft hearted brother with paint stained fingers; their loud mouthed friend that became a sibling in his own right; skinned knees; fist fights with the local bullies and unforgiving winters (small precious bits of information that the Saint can’t help but treasure).
He sends the kid on her way with an assortment of food wrapped in a piece of cloth (it wasn’t his job to make sure she was fed but at the same time, how could he not?) and a soft reminder that she would probably come around some of the others on her way down (he wasn’t that good of a sensor to pinpoint where exactly everyone was in the Sanctuary, but it was enough to tell most of his fellow Saints weren’t on their temples).
She’s gone with a swish of dark fabric, Nike glinting under the sun (the realization that she left the holy scepter laying on the ground the whole time they talked was almost enough to induce him into a panic, the idea of Pope Sage coming across such a scene sending a shiver down his spine).
It was already dark out by the time he saw her again – A sudden burst of an immense cosmo just outside that had him rushing to the temple’s doors despite Pisces’ calm recognition at the back of his mind.
The girl stood just a few feet away, smiling big and mischievous and completely unaware she had just broadcasted her presence to the Sanctuary as a whole (Degel’s silhouette peaked out from Aquarius’ doors just as panicked footfalls came from the direction of the Pope’s chambers).
“Thank you for not snitching on me and for the food, I had fun talking to you!”
The girl’s voice climbs up into a cheerful call that has Albafica smiling back despite himself – a small shy little thing that escaped him before he could realise it even existed (a little frayed around the edges from a lack of use, perhaps).
“You’re welcome Lady Sasha, I enjoyed talking to you as well.”
Above them someone yelled after the well-being of Lady Athena which had the girl pulling a face before she rushed forward and circled his waist with her tiny arms.
A chorus of worried cries raised onto the night, but the child goddess paid them no mind.
“See dummy I’m ok, so don’t worry so much!” she giggles over the hammering of his heart against his ribcages.
She made her way between fretting adults as a bolt of lightning, laughter ringing like a bell as she dodged worried hands – The Pisces Saint found himself frozen in her wake, warmth and dread fighting for control inside his gut as his eyes followed the path of that impossible miraculous child.
The first time Albafica met their goddess made human he resigned himself to the knowledge of the distance of their respective stations; the reality of her humanity shattered something within himself – and yet, it would be her (loud and unapologetic) resolve in coming back to him time and again that mended his soul.
He didn’t know it yet, but his second chance at a family started with a weird little girl who refused to leave him alone.